i'm about to finish a puzzle,
completing a portrait
to give me peace.
when the puzzle,
I soon find,
is broken;
there's a spot
with a missing piece.

the whole picture seems ruined
by the hole,
the hole
where something should be.
incompleteness
that once was masked
is now apparent
for all to see.

I open up the box
and find its contents
have been taken.
the piece that has been stolen
left the puzzle with no ending.
I draw out a replacement
as perfect as I can imagine,
but the hollow representation
cannot match
what once was.

I retrace all the steps I took
to get me to this point.
each puzzle piece which I had put
in order to make it work.
the last of all,
the one needed,
the one to complete me,
was given to the one who
needed it more
than I could give.

she has my final puzzle piece
and I have hers as well,
and I would gladly hand it over
time and time again.

she has my missing puzzle piece
and I have hers as well.
neither of our portraits can be complete
without the other's help.
and though this makes it difficult
to carry on as before,
I find the best puzzles require
more than just oneself.

[ARH]